Don't you know it's not this hard? [Active/Closed]
Characters: Kairi, Machi.
Setting: West Parlor.
Time: Noon, Day 11.
Summary: Kairi encounters Machi for the third time. As always, some awkwardness ensues.
Warnings: Not sure yet, if any at all.
Her hand blocked out a small fraction of the large glass window, creating smudges on the pristine new glass that had undoubtedly been processed just the night before. Indifferently, she did not care that she was dirtying the new/old house's most recent addition. It had been cruel to her, cruel to them all, taunting them like that. Its disappearance had been, at first, a blessing, and then realizing they had nowhere to go, nothing to eat or drink, it had been disastrous. Even though most people wished to leave the house if it was the last thing they did, they found themselves wishing to be back in its close comforts. Night had fallen without ghosts and monsters, but the lack of basic necessities was still there, leaving them hungry and pitiful, their tongues dry and slick with cotton.
It was long since dawn and the arrival of the old house (and somewhat new as well, with the different rooms), and she had eaten her fill since finding her feet back on marble floor. Still, she felt that insatiable part of her stomach continue to ache and yearn for nourishment, something she probably wouldn't be able to shake for a few more days. After nearly starving to death, you didn't just go back to how it had been before, when your stomach growled hours after lunch and you thought you were hungry. It had sobered up her senses and taught her to pack more food and drinks away in her small bag she carried on her hip.
Kairi gazed out the window, the day's sunshine illuminating the entire glass rectangle, breaking out into rays around her outline as though she was the one that was shining. Her expression was mainly blank, though inside, she was wondering. How could things have been different? If only there had been a way to actually leave . . . Her fingers curled as she pressed her forehead against the glass. She should have tried something. Something, anything. But there was nothing she could do. She'd just have to try again, given another chance. The redhead let a sigh filter through her mouth, fogging the window for a moment, and then disappearing as quickly as the house had, two weeks before.
Setting: West Parlor.
Time: Noon, Day 11.
Summary: Kairi encounters Machi for the third time. As always, some awkwardness ensues.
Warnings: Not sure yet, if any at all.
Her hand blocked out a small fraction of the large glass window, creating smudges on the pristine new glass that had undoubtedly been processed just the night before. Indifferently, she did not care that she was dirtying the new/old house's most recent addition. It had been cruel to her, cruel to them all, taunting them like that. Its disappearance had been, at first, a blessing, and then realizing they had nowhere to go, nothing to eat or drink, it had been disastrous. Even though most people wished to leave the house if it was the last thing they did, they found themselves wishing to be back in its close comforts. Night had fallen without ghosts and monsters, but the lack of basic necessities was still there, leaving them hungry and pitiful, their tongues dry and slick with cotton.
It was long since dawn and the arrival of the old house (and somewhat new as well, with the different rooms), and she had eaten her fill since finding her feet back on marble floor. Still, she felt that insatiable part of her stomach continue to ache and yearn for nourishment, something she probably wouldn't be able to shake for a few more days. After nearly starving to death, you didn't just go back to how it had been before, when your stomach growled hours after lunch and you thought you were hungry. It had sobered up her senses and taught her to pack more food and drinks away in her small bag she carried on her hip.
Kairi gazed out the window, the day's sunshine illuminating the entire glass rectangle, breaking out into rays around her outline as though she was the one that was shining. Her expression was mainly blank, though inside, she was wondering. How could things have been different? If only there had been a way to actually leave . . . Her fingers curled as she pressed her forehead against the glass. She should have tried something. Something, anything. But there was nothing she could do. She'd just have to try again, given another chance. The redhead let a sigh filter through her mouth, fogging the window for a moment, and then disappearing as quickly as the house had, two weeks before.